Angel Story
by Moonygrrl
Summary: An unlikey second savior of earth meets her guardian angel. Can the two together save earth's people from Satan, or will they destroy each other in the process?
1. Prolouge

Prologue Another day, another battle. I'm reminded of which side I'm supposed to be on, as my guardian angel deflects yet another of Satan's fiery masses as it's hurled towards me with incredible heat and force. I've been told I'm an innocent to be protected, though even now I question how that could ever be true.  
  
The light hurtling towards me is always the same; a red, bright, heated mass that captures my gaze. Peering into the flames has a strange effect on me. Each time I look into the hurtling ball of death ands destruction coming towards me, I become nothing more than a deer, shocked by the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. I'm tempted to just stand there, mesmerized by what I'm seeing. The flames hold images of everything I've ever wanted, ever dreamed about. Promises of things to come, if only I would let it hit me.  
  
My angel glances at me, as if to see what I will do. His blue eyes watch me intently as the fire draws closer, and his fair skin pales even more. Drawing his hand through his short brown locks, he marks himself as if to run in front of me if I don't move on my own. The ball moves speedily towards me still, and I won't budge. I'm tired of running. It doesn't matter if I do or don't anymore. Either way, my beautiful angel will save me…though for what reason, I'll never understand.  
  
As I reach out for the ball of destruction, my angel charges towards me and pulls me aside, deflecting Satan's endless balls of hell fire and waking me from my lucid trance. He seems to think I was too dazed to move out of the way on my own. Really though, I'm testing my limits, and I'd half a mind that time, to just let the fire consume my soul. I've been running from this evil for so long now, not understanding why it's after me, or why my angel was even sent to watch over me. Doesn't he understand how it feels to be a pawn in a game you don't understand? Doesn't he ever fell like giving up this endless battle?  
  
My angel grows weary of me I think. Seems he can never leave my side as I am forever stumbling into harm's way. Everyday is a battle for my soul, and all I may do is look on. And here we are, in yet another battle of good verses evil, and I can't figure out which side I truly belong on. I was never given a choice; my side was chosen for me. Not that I see the difference between what is god and what is evil anymore. How can I when I've seen so many die to protect an innocent, and so many live to do evil works? Is there even a difference anymore? Was there ever?  
In order to protect me, my angel has had to let others die. He's sedated me, erased memories, and has ripped me away from everything I've ever known. All of this to "Protect me". "From what"? I want to ask him. But my angel merely shakes his head, knowing any answer he gives will only lead to more questions that neither of us know the answers to. And this is to be the side of good. Two figures with no hope, afraid to trust each other, and having no idea what to do with the flawed task before them.  
Satan has tried to kill my angel, and has sent me visions of a life I've always dreamed about but never had the means to make my own. He promises me a better life. And I'm too confused now to know what's real and what isn't.  
My angel promises me nothing…just that he will watch out for me. I am his charge, and his soul was melded with mine when he took me on, as I am his God given assignment. If you are bound to a charge, you feel what they feel, and can supposedly better keep them from perils and dangers…or so he has told me. When he does actually speak.  
No one ever bothered to tell me why my guardian looks out for me, or why my soul is of such worth. Perhaps it is worth nothing. But then why does my angel not leave? The way my angel acts, I start to question for what purpose God wants my soul. He seems as needing of it as the very devil that hunts me. Day after day my angel stays by my side, wrapping himself in a cloak of invisibility. He never strays too far from where I am. Sensing danger, he hurries back to me, stopping yet another evil faction from claiming my life.  
For some reason, he has been sworn to protect me. He's never given me a reason why, thought I've pestered him about it countless times since our meeting. I'm starting to wonder if he even knows the answer himself. Each time I ask, he groans, wishing, I think, that his charge was mute, and tells me not to question him. But I'm never satisfied with his answer, and proceed to pose more questions.  
My angel touches a finger to my forehead and beckons sleep to take me. I think he just wants to sit quietly for a moment, and I cannot blame him. The questions I ask are difficult to answer because I don't think he understands these battles any more than I do.  
As I drift off to sleep, my angel sits next to me, his head in his hands, a book in his lap, and he prays to God that he's protecting me as he should. I wish to answer him, to reassure him he's done his best…but sleep overtakes me once again, and I leave him to his prayers, hoping that maybe, this time, someone will hear them. 


	2. One

Chapter 1  
  
I never used to like to sleep, though I don't have much say in that matter anymore. I've always been a rather restless sleeper, having nightmares constantly. I'd thrash about at night, when I could sleep, and wish that sleep were not necessary for a person to live. It was on one of these nights, that I first encountered my angel.  
  
I had awoken from yet another horrid dream, tears pouring down my face, as I cried soundlessly. This sort of thing had been happening every night for months now, but the terror always felt fresh, and the tears never seemed to cease, though I was never able to remember what it was that I had dreamed that could possibly draw so many tears. I'd tried taking sedatives, and listening to relaxing music before bed, but nothing seemed to work, and I had begun to give up on every getting a decent night's sleep again.  
  
Feeling somewhat ill at ease, and searching for a way to calm me enough that I would once more be able to lay my head down and enter the realm of dreams, I decided to go get myself a glass of milk. That usually soothed me enough to slow my tears, and alleviate my mind of whatever had made me so frantic and scared.  
  
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I pitched my covers back and stroked my face with my pajama sleeve, soaking it with salty tears. Then, removing my bathrobe from the end of my bed and tying it loosely around my waist, I proceeded to tip toe down the hallway towards the living room and the staircase near the front door. I recall turning on my heel near the staircase on my way into the kitchen, and tripping on a shoe which had been carelessly left there by either my father or me. My weeping hadn't allowed me to see the shoe until it was too late. I felt myself begin to fall down the stairs, and I could do nothing to stop it.  
  
I don't really remember making any noise as I fell. I don't remember crying out in fear, or anything, not that my dad would have woken up anyway. He was a deep sleeper, and once he was asleep, he wouldn't get up for anyone or anything, including my klutz-like behavior. I remember rolling and thudding down the flight of stairs, my head smashing each step with a sickening crack. I finally stopped when I hit the wall near the landing, my body lifeless on the floor. The room was spinning through my bleary eyes, and all I could feel was a dazed sort of pain. It hadn't yet registered in my mind that I had fallen, though my body ached considerably.  
  
Lying on my back, I could feel something sticky and wet on the back of my neck. I reached my hand behind my head, and gently patted my neck. Feeling a surge of pain from the crown of my head, I continued to feel around, searching for a bump or bruise, or something of that sort. I slowly drew my hand back towards my side, glancing at it in disbelief and panic. My fingers were covered in a deep, rich, sticky concoction; blood. I painfully turned my head, and noticed there was blood pooling on the floor. Pains swept over my body in waves, pulsing from my wound and I saw the world around me begin to grow dim as I slipped quietly into darkness.  
  
… … … … …  
  
"Angel Connery! Wake!" a booming voice yelled in my ear, urgency radiating from every syllable. "Angel Connery! Wake!" A booming voice yelled in my ear, urgency radiating from every syllable. I raised my head sleepily from my old wooded desk. I must have fallen asleep studying again…."Y-y-yes sir?" I mumbled, slightly startled at being woken so roughly, and looking to the left where my angel academy instructor stands, hands on his hips giving me a series of disproving looks. "Angel Connery, you've been summoned to the Chamber of the Almighty. An assignment awaits you." "What?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes, sure that I had heard him incorrectly.  
  
Spreading my wings and ruffling my feathers in an attempt to fully awaken, I slid off my chair and floated towards him till we were fact to face. "That's impossible. I haven't even passed my guardianship exams yet. I still have much time left before anyone may give me a charge of my own."  
  
I'm not sure by what power I was made so bold as to challenge the validity of my instructor's words, but luckily he did not take offense to it. He sighed, handing me my white robe, and shaking his head as if he himself could not understand why they had selected such a daft angel to watch over a charge. "Angel Connery, you are not the brightest lad I have ever had the duty of instructing, but you have your strengths. Unfortunately, listening isn't one of them."  
  
I pulled my white robe over my head, carefully sliding my wings through the slits in the fabric, and struggling to locate the heck and arm holes. The robe was a soft and warm, not exactly wonderful when one was attempting to snap to attention. I tied the golden sash around my waist, over my white pajama pants, which I of course had fallen asleep in. I chuckled softly to myself, thinking that perhaps there was such a thing as too much studying after all. I was going to look like hell when I arrived at the Chamber of the Almighty.  
  
"Angel Connery!" my instructor bellowed in response to my chuckle. "This is no laughing matter. God has your assignment's information. She is a very special case, and if you don't hurry up not only will you lose the chance to watch over her and earn your guardianship, but this girl may die. Go NOW!" My instructor pushed me off my cloud and threw my sandals after me, one of them hitting me square in the back. If I hadn't been fully awake before, I was now. Flying clumsily as I attempted to strap my sandals on, I started my ascension to the Grand Assemblage Chamber, at the very top of this clouded domain.  
  
"A girl?" I muttered to myself. "They want me, of all people, to take charge of a girl?" I thought back to my brief time on earth. I'd been there barely twenty-five years, when my life had been claimed in a car accident. I'd been a living paradox back then. My life had centered on a girl who I loved fiercely. I could always be found by her side. And yet, every other girl I had ever met had been a problem for me. They were always gossiping, never saying what they truly felt, and generally just causing problems. I'd almost come to have a natural enmity towards them…and then everything shifted without reason and at the most unexpected of times. It was almost frightening, because I'd never found the words to describe the change. And then one day, it hit me… I'd fallen in love.  
Her name was Raven and she was beautiful. Young and fair skinned, auburn curls that ran from her the top of her head to the crook of her back, eyes that shone like diamonds, their crystal blue lighting up the dark as they danced merrily though her life. She'd had another side though. She'd been remarkably straightforward, almost harsh at times, but a very mothering soul. She was there when you needed her the most, and couldn't find the words to express it. She'd understood me, filling in the cracks and smoothing out my imperfections…We'd been good together… "No", I said once more, as if to challenge God himself. "Not a girl. I'd rather have no assignment till my final exams, years away, than watch over another treacherous girl." I shook my head so that my short brown locks suddenly swished back and forth, and hoped that my instructor had been mistaken. He must have meant my charge to be a boy. He must have.  
  
I reached my destination, a white palace like place with heavy wooden doors with the bible verse"------" written on it in gold. I knocked on the door, bowed before it, and made the sign of the cross. The door opened for me, and I was given a slip of white smooth paper with my identification information printed on it.  
Once I set foot inside, I was amazed by the height of the ceiling. This building reminded me of the capital building, back on earth. In America, there had been as huge dome shaped building, with incredibly high ceilings. There was a huge hole in the center, so you might look from the floor to the ceiling without having to climb stairs, and the offices and stairs themselves were set in a spiral around the inner edge of the dome walls. It was in a word, incredible, but it was nothing compared to this.  
The building was designed this way to allow for maximum trafficking of flying angels as they delivered paperwork from place to place as quickly as possible. I looked around and saw mountains of paperwork every where, most 0f it documentation about the life of a particular charge, and the angel who was sent to protect them. I picked one manuscript up off the floor. It documented the life of one "Carol Fisher" from the time she was first born till present day. She was now thirty-two apparently, and she had faced a series of trials in her life. In skimming through the pages I saw that as a child, she had once swallowed a fishing hook, and her angel had had to sedate her so she would not move and possibly puncture her organs. Angel Remoras, her guardian, had then carefully removed the hook and cast it away where the child would never again be able to get it. "Nice job Miss Remoras," I whispered before dropping the manuscript to the floor again. It had occurred to me that my own future charge was in danger and all that I could think about was what my instructor had said before casting me off my comfy cloud. "She is a special case, and if you don't hurry up…this girl may die." He had said something to that effect. I couldn't remember his exact words, but I knew that my time had run out. I had to get to the Chamber of the Almighty, and fast. But I had no idea where to even begin to search in the world of endless flying papers.  
"Excuse me, miss? " I said, grabbing the arm of the next angel who tried to flyby me. "Not now please sir" she said, taking off with armfuls of paperwork. I tried again. This time the angel passed in from of me and I grabbed it by the sandal. He turned his head back and gave me a nasty look. "Can I help you sir?" he asked, clearly wishing to get back to his job. "Yes I…" I began letting go of his leg. "Not now sir," he said, flying off at top speed. "Argh!" I said, shaking my head and throwing my arms up. If I didn't get to that chamber I could be in a great deal of trouble, and for what? I wasn't my fault. I flew directly into the center of the traffic, really nervous that I was too late now, and somewhat frustrated by my inability to get anyone to answer a simple yet important question. Making sure I was in everyone's way, I proceeded to bellow "Excuse me!" The deepness and seriousness of my voice stunned even myself for a moment, as I watched everyone come to a halt, the sound echoing off every wall in the place. "Would it be too much to act for one of you to just tell me where I could find the Chamber of the Almighty?" I called out, my eyes searching the room for a volunteer. "Err...yes sir," said the man who had run from me earlier. "Straight up", he said tentatively, pointing to the very top of the dome. I rolled my eyes as things returned to their normal chaotic speeds, angels whizzing by me nearly knocking me over as I fluttered in place amount. Of course it would be the office at the very top. After all, there was a reason why the earth-people always said "Glory to God in the highest." Humans astounded me sometimes. They had every answer they would ever need laid out for them in the bible. People knew so much more than they would ever give themselves credit for. My instructor had been right. Everything I would ever need to know could be found in the bible, my guardianship book, or the life story of my charge. An angel had little need for much else…except…the charge must believe in the angel who watches over them. If the charge did not whole heartedly believe that the angel sent to watch them was truly an angel, the charge had damned themselves before the mission ever began. Belief is essential. You cannot live without believing in something. Be it angels, or fairies, or gnomes or Santa Clause, you have got to believe in something. It is that belief that stimulates the mind, and has made humans the beings they are today. Now here is what I don't understand. You can be a devout Christian, or Protestant, or Jew, or whatever you happen to be, and yet not believe in angels. It's almost as if an entire species of creatures do not exist in the eyes of most humans, and those who do actually believe in our beings are often labeled as "fruitcakes" because of it. Humans have this persistent need to label things. Every person, every object, every thing from every walk of life must have a name. But even I am wise enough to know that being a "fruitcake", is not a good label to have placed upon one's self. And it's too bad, because those "fruitcakes" know of what they speak.  
I flew to the very top of the dome ceiling and found myself staring at one gold encrusted door. And here I faltered. I found myself undeserving to even lay a hand upon the door, much less to set foot inside what was surely the most holy locality there was. I swept my hand through my tresses again, gripping strands tightly between my fingers. "Be a man Connery," I instructed myself, knowing that if I didn't collect up my courage and get in there presently, I'd face God's wrath for letting my charge die. God…I'd never even seen God. The concept hit me like a ton of bricks. I was about to set eyes on the creator of the world in all its glory. And still, I could not make myself touch that door. I thought about my charge. About what I was getting into. A girl. My soul would be forever bound to that of a girl, who would indubitably be my downfall. Men were contumacious, but girls were surreptitious fickle creatures. A boy, I could deal with. The hardest thing about having a male charge was convincing them that you were real. Women were more trusting…but they unwittingly ruined everything, letting their emotions get in the way of what needed to be done for their safety. I shook my head once more. I had to go in, and I had to go in now. If something happened to that girl because I didn't get there quickly enough, I'd never be able to forgive myself, and something told me God would not forgive me either. I knocked lightly upon the door, hoping it was loud enough that someone inside might hear me. "Enter Angel Connery" a voice boomed from inside. "You are expected." I gently pushed open the door, and found myself in a well-lit circular room. Across the way from where I was standing, was a man sitting on a cloud, his back to me. From where I was standing, I could see that he had massive golden wings, where as mine were white. He also had long silvery strands of hair running from the top of his head, down his back, and off the edge of the cloud, which hovered a foot above the floor. As I walked towards him, seeing that there was no other furniture but that cloud, I spread my wings, wishing to fill a bit more of the space around me. I had never liked the idea of being a small person in a huge room. The concept always made me feel as if I didn't belong.  
Hearing the rustling of my feathers, the man stood up, still upon his cloud, and turned to face me. What I saw then, I had not expected. God was an old man with a well-weathered face and crystal blue eyes that were stunningly beautiful. Long strands of white hair made up his beard, which hung to the floor, just like his hair. He was not a very tall man, though he was close to my height, which was 5'9, but the lack of height was no loss to him. He had an air of calmness about him that was reflected in the way he looked at you, his eyes like crystal blue waves rolling upon sand. God looked at me, and suddenly I felt very afraid. I was face to face with my creator, and he was not at all what I had expected. This was the man who had banished Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden; the man who had battled Satan without fear. This was the man who could move mountains and raise the seas till they swept away entire cities. Compared to him, I was nothing. And I began to feel both weak and helpless.  
"Do not be afraid of me Angel" he said, sensing my discomfort. "It is with good reason that I have chosen you to guard this charge." I relaxed a bit, realizing that God was not as fearsome as I had been told. He did however, have an aura of supreme superiority, and a deeply aged face. He had after all, seen everything in his time. He had been here when Earth was created, and he would still exist at its end. He seemed not a learned man, but all knowing, as if he could peer into the soul of any creature, be it animal, human, or angel. He had far greater wisdom than even I could imagine, and I trusted him.  
Raising his palm towards a window that looked out upon the earth, he waved his hand over the glass. Suddenly I saw, not the world turning through space, but a girl, lying at the foot of a very high staircase, the floor around her soaked with fresh blood, her face contorted in pain as she tried to move. She couldn't have been much older than seventeen or so, and looking at her closely, I saw that she had the face of an innocent child.  
"Angel Connery, this girl is to be your charge. You must swear to protect her at all costs, making sure that no harm will come to her. She, though she does not yet realize it, is more in need of an angel than anyone I have ever seen. She is no easy case, and the perils she will face…are far greater than those of any other of my children. But no matter what, you must see that she never gives up." He looked at this child, worry etched in each of his wrinkles.  
"But what is her name?" I asked, wishing to know more about the girl who's life I was about to become a part of. "Where is she on Earth? And why is she so important? I don't understand sir…why you want as lowly and angel as myself to watch over her. I don't think I can…" I looked at the floor, knowing that there was no way I was prepared for what he was asking me to do. Couldn't he see how inexperienced I was?  
He turned his focus back to me, shaking his head as if I wasn't listening to him, as if I wasn't getting the big picture he was seeing. "Angel, I have not the time to tell you everything, but I'll tell you what can be explained quickly." He beckoned me to sit on a white fluffy cloud, like the one he had been resting upon. Seating myself comfortably, he handed me the life story of my soon-to-be charge, which I leafed through as he began to speak.  
"The girl is named "Hope Williams". She means more to the fate of this world than even she could imagine. Sixteen years of age, it won't be long at all before she becomes caught in an ongoing war between good and evil. Sought by evil forces, most likely that of Lucifer, the child has the capacity for great power. The choices she makes could upset the balance between good and evil, deciding the fate of both worlds. She is desperately in need of guidance and she needs an angel to watch over her. That's guidance I cannot give her from where I sit now. I cannot neglect the people of Earth to guide my daughter. Another will have to do it for me." "Your daughter? But that would make her…"I began. "Yes. She is the one they have been waiting for. The second savior." "And she doesn't know? She doesn't realize that she is the second child of God? The sibling of Jesus, their savior?" I had sop many questions shooting around in my head. There had been a grand fuss when God's only son had been sent to Earth, the prince of peace. And that had been his downfall. I understood now. She had been sent quietly so as to do the most good for the longest amount of time. She would finish the job her brother had started so many years before. "She doesn't know. When I sent her to Earth, I never dreamed that Lucifer would already have predicted her coming. He's been waiting for her, preparing to corrupt her. I have tried to send experienced angel's to break the barrier he has put around her, that we may help guide her choices, but he is well attuned to the power of a true guardian angel, and they cannot pass through to help her. This is why I need your help. You have not yet become a guardian, so you may pass through the barrier and come to her aid. You must show her the path laid out for her. The road she must lead her people down. She's still a child, but the fate of my Earthly beings rests on her small shoulders." "But why me?" I asked, running both my hands though my short brown locks. "There are angels at the top of my class who would probably be better suited for an assignment of this striking power. Why me?" God looked into my eyes for a moment, and I could see, in the depths of the crystal blue, a reflection of myself. I looked extremely serious, but my deep blue eyes showed fear and inner conflict. What if I couldn't do this? What if I let something happen to her? Why me?  
God raised himself from the cloud had had been resting upon, and I did the same. And there we floated, face to face, while I waited for his answer. He glimpsed at his window, watching the Earth turn, clouded masses gently slide in over patches of blue and green. It was breathtaking. I understood now what he meant by the beauty of Earth, and I wondered if the people down there could ever truly understand what a beautiful world they lived in.  
"Why you?" He repeated, twirling a strand of hair from his silvery beard, which had been dragging across the floor. "Yes sir, that's the one thing I cannot understand," I said, putting my charge's life story into my satchel. "Oh my child…there is so much that you don't understand. But trust me when I say this… Angel, you need her just as much as she needs you. Good luck my child." With that, he touched a hand to my shoulder and I found myself falling. "I'm not ready for this." I yelled out, hoping he truly knew what he was doing, and wishing he would re-think sending me. I was honored that he thought I had the potential, but there are some tasks that one cannot complete on one's own. "Please sir, think about what you're doing!" I called out, not knowing if he could even hear me. But it was too late. I was falling to Earth. 


	3. Two

Chapter 2 After falling for a minute or so, my eyes closed tightly for fear that I would crash, my wings useless to resist the power of God's touch, I found myself calming. I felt my body coming slowly to a stop, and opened my eyes just as my wings touched the floor of wherever it was I had landed. Looking around, I found myself at Hope's side, near the bottom of what appeared to be a stairwell. She lying on the ground, not moving, but from where I was standing she only seemed to be unconscious. And then I saw it…her hair had streaks of red in it that didn't belong there…blood. "She must be bleeding from the back of her head." I thought. There wasn't much time then. I had to bind myself to her quickly; before anything else could happen. If she got any worse, she may not be strong enough to make it through the binding process. It could be draining for a mortal…and she didn't seem as if she could be drained anymore than she already was.  
I reached into my satchel and took out a golden slip of paper, which had been attached to my charge's life story. On it were written the words "Ian ran dais en licit age de binds." I read the words from the card slowly, knowing that this incantation would forever bind me to my charge. From that point onwards I would feel what she felt, know what she knew, and be better able to protect her. I felt warmth surround me as my soul melded with that of the girl's, making her officially my charge. She was placed in my care and there would be no turning back now.  
Then I felt it. Pain. She was in great pain, and her pulse was weakening. I bent down to her carefully lifting her body into my lap, her head resting against the crook of my arm, her blood soaking my white robe a deep red. She looked so lifeless…and I could feel her pain role over me in waves now. She was acutely aware of what was happening, that she was slowly bleeding to death.  
"God, no." I whispered, beginning to panic. I could not remember the healing incantation I had learned previously with my instructor. Now, when I most needed it, my memory was failing me. I looked at the girl in my arms, and prayed silently that something would jog my memory. Then out of nowhere, it hit me. "Mum de limas aura rah." I mouthed, the words audible only to me. I repeated them again, holding my index finger to Hope's head. The blood stopped flowing, and the sticky, blood coated strands of blond hair parted so that I could better examine her injury.  
"Oh great", I muttered, seeing that she had nearly cracked her open her skull. One more hit and she could have died before I got here. I looked at her face, no longer contorted in a sleepy pain. The healing incantation had worked well. Far better than I had expected it would, considering I had never used it before. She could no longer feel great surges of pain…just enough to keep her alive. Placing my hand on her open wound, I muttered once more, "Mum de limas aura rah", and felt the wound closing. She would live for the time being. Only time would tell if she would return to her normal life. She could possibly have some sort of brain damage, but I wouldn't know until later. "If only I'd gotten here sooner", I whispered harshly to myself, still clutching her to my shoulder. "Maybe I could have stopped this from happening." As I looked at the girl's sleeping form resting in my arms, I was reminded of how fragile human life was, and how easily it could be taken away from them. Humans had such a short life span…75 years if they were lucky, less than that if they weren't, and most of them just wasted the time. But this girl was only sixteen; far to young still for it to be her time to depart this world.  
She was small for her age, maybe 5'4'', and must have weighed somewhere around a hundred and thirty pounds. She had long brown hair, that would probably have reached all the way to her waist, and a few strands were naturally highlighted blonde. She seemed relatively fair skinned, though her cheeks were flushed as she slept. I dragged my finger lightly across her eyelids, willing them to flutter so that I may peer into her eyes. Eyes have long been said to be the window into a person's soul. If you were to look into them, you could learn much more about a person than they would ever tell you. Examining her eyes, I could see they were a green-hazel color with golden specks, very different from my own. The eyes themselves appeared to be aged beyond their years. Looking into them, you could almost see hurt and worry etched into each and every golden speck. She looked as if she had been crying recently…maybe a few minutes before I had arrived, but it was anyone's guess as to why.  
Picking her up gently, I carried her up the stairs, careful to keep her head close to my body, where it wouldn't accidentally hit the railing, possibly promoting further injury. She did not stir as I walked down the long hallway to the only room at the end, which I assumed to be her bedroom. The room was poorly lit, a lamp by her bedside the only illumination. "Lumos" I whispered, beckoning the light to grow brighter, but not bright enough as to wake her.  
Placing her gently on the bed in a sitting position, I untied the sash of her bathrobe, and slowly took it off her. It was soaked with blood, and I knew that no amount of washing would get that stain out. Tossing the robe in the trashcan by the door, I pulled back the sheets and placed her in the center of the bed, swinging her feet around, off the floor and under the covers. Yanking the covers gently over her body, I tucked her in, making sure she was resting in a way that would take pressure off the crown of her head.  
She stirred for a moment, murmuring something I couldn't quite understand, and fluttered her lashes for a moment, before my sleep overtook her once more. The binding spell and the healing spell were tiring on their own, but to have both completed within a matter of minutes was enough to sedate a charge for twelve hours or more. Confident that she would not wake for a long while, I looked around the room for a place to sit. By the lamp, there was an old rocking chair, a crochet blanket hung over it's backing. It faced the girl, and the light was now bright enough for reading, so I sat down and removed my charge's life story from my satchel. I sighed, and glanced again at the girl. This would be no easy task. God was right about that. I lay back in the chair, the gentle fluttering of my wings causing it to move, as I made myself comfortable. I had a lot of reading to do that night…and the morning would bring new trials. The exhausting events of today still fresh in my mind, I opened up to page one of her life, and began to read. 


	4. Three

Chapter 3 Sitting in that chair, I started to wonder about exactly what I had gotten myself into. Why did I ever agree to this? This girl is more trouble than even I had thought she could be. I've been here just a few minutes, and already she's gotten an almost fatal injury, and she stained my robe!" I mumbled into my hands. Looking up at her, I made sure she was OK, and then resigned myself to the fact that this was how things were going to be. It was going to be difficult, and things were only going to get worse from that point onward.  
I chuckled, trying to think about what my professor would say if he heard me grumbling about getting my robe dirty. He'd kill me. Just picturing his sour looking face made me want to chuckle. But I would rather see that face every day, than have to face the daughter of God without any idea of what to do.  
I looked at the book in my lap, absently scanning the pages, picking up phrases here and there. I sighed. She had really scared me for a moment. I thought I'd been too late to help her. I was lucky to have arrived when I did. It wasn't just her that I was concerned about. She would probably be just fine in a few days or so. But what would have happened to me if I hadn't reached her in time? She was the last savior. And if something was to happen to her under my watch, I could lose everything.  
Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl!" I muttered, annoyed that I'd been tossed into this situation without any of the proper training. I wasn't ready for any of the stuff I knew I would have to face in order to protect her, and I was terrified of failing my mission.  
Flipping through the pages, I tried once more to get into the story of Hope's life, but I had never really been one for biographies. I knew I'd have to read it because I' have to have a good background on here to be able to convince her that I was real.  
Now, most people don't actually meet their angels in real life. It's always been against the rules, except in very special cases. A good portion of the charges angels watched over just felt a strange sort of presence about themselves at one time or another. Perhaps the steady hands of a loved one guiding them out of harms way, or the whispering of an answer in the ear of a charge. Most people seemed to either think ghosts or luck was at work. But ghosts don't exist, and it happens with too much purpose for it to be considered luck. That was simply an angel, watching over a charge.  
I knew Hope was a special case. She wasn't going to lead a normal life. Just believing in God and in angels wasn't going to be enough to save her. She would need me to actively protect her, and I'd have to make myself known to her in order to watch over her.  
As my eyes quickly skimmed Hope's life story, I came across things that surprised me. She hadn't had an easy life. Se was removed from her immediate biological family, but from just skimming, I didn't know the specifics of it.  
I stopped reading. God had sent this child into the world to fend for herself. "A merciful God", I mumbled. "What kind of God takes a child's family away from her?" I shook my head and rolled my eyes, remembering the excuse earthbound humans gave throughout their lives for things that went wrong. "God has a plan," people always remarked, as if that would right all the wrongs of this world. Nothing was that simple. God had a plan for his earthly children, that much was true. But sometimes it seemed to me as if the very people he wanted to save, were the people he was sacrificing.  
I closed the book, turning down a corner to mark my place, and put the book face down on the nightstand. I raised myself from the seat once more, and walked over to where the girl slept. Her long wavy mane lay flowing around her face, her cheeks still a light shade of red, and they were warm to the touch.  
I smiled, looking at her long lashes and little draw mouth. She looked so peaceful, just lying there, sleeping, not a care in the world. She had no idea of the tasks that lay before her as the last savior. She didn't even realize yet that she was the daughter of God. She had such an important role for such a young woman, it seemed to me, too large to burden her with. But I had no choice. She was the chosen one.  
Thinking about everything this girl was going to go through, I flinched, trying once more to understand what God was thinking when he sent me to tell a child that she was the leader of her people, the daughter of our Father in Heaven. What was left of her childhood was about to be ripped away from her, and she'd never be able to go back to being just a normal girl. It wasn't fair, she was just a child. Could she handle the responsibility before her?  
That one thought ran through my mind again and again, making me question my own abilities for the millionth time that night. Would I be able to take care of my charge? Could I handle the burden of my own responsibility? Or would I break, forever and outcast of Heaven, having upset the balance of power betwixt Heaven and hell? I shuddered. I had no choice. I had to protect her. The fate of the world depended on we two; a child and a renegade angel.  
I sat on the edge of her bed, just staring at her. She seemed to be healed somewhat. At least well enough that she would not stir, the only sound being her quiet sighing as she slept, small, warm, breathy rivers of air flowing from her gentle lips as her chest slowly rose and fell. I tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, and for a moment I could have sworn that she looked exactly like someone I used to know.  
I looked around her room trying to gain knowledge about her from her surroundings. Her bedroom was painted a pale yellow, but the whole room couldn't have been more than maybe 14 feet by 16 feet. As I kicked off my sandals, I let my bare feet scarcely scraping across her light crème colored rug, feeling its fluffy texture. Moonlight shone through her window onto that patch of rug and I watched as my dangling feet cast a long shadow. He r room had three windows in it, one right over her bed, and two on her left wall, facing what appeared to be woods. Outside the first of the two windows was a tree, with little wooden slats attached to it. I got up to see what on earth they could be when I realized that it was a make shift ladder. She must climb up there often. I took out my little notepad and wrote down, "likes to be alone". How the heck does she get out this window? I wondered, trying to imagine even someone as thin as her getting through the narrow window. I tried to raise the window to let air in, and found that it only went up half way. Grunting and groaning, I continued to push on the window, but something was keeping it from extending further. Feeling sweat drip on my neck, I let go, and heard a clicking noise. And then I realized how she got out; if you take pressure off the window, little notches at the top click, and you can extend the frame all the way up.  
I grumbled to myself about the energy I had wasted, and plunked myself into a comfy little blue chair right near the window, throwing the little yellow throw pillow on the floor. The matching plush chair was directly across from me, and I placed my feet upon it, attempting to relax. Between the two seats was an oak bookcase and I stared at it, hoping the book bindings would give me a clue as to what her actual personality was like. Generally people like authors who reflect their interests. The top shelf was entirely Shakespeare and the Chicken Soup for the Soul series; not a logical mix, but it definitely showed an appreciation for poetry and short works. I scribbled that down in my little book with my feather pen, hoping it would come in handy later. On the opposite wall were pictures of people who I assumed must be her friends, but there were no pictures of her and a significant other. There were pictures of her someone who must have been her grandpa, and other pictures of a boy with pale kin and curly black hair holding a brunette girl with freckles and a dog on a dock overlooking some body of water. The picture looked old, but it was still in color, and I realized they were probably her parents. The pictures were hung over an oak desk, on which rested a black laptop and a small blue desk lamp. Her desk was pretty orderly, and I got a kick out of the mug she had on her desk which held an odd assortment of pencils and pens. The mug was misshapen and almost crushed- looking, and read "This was a normal mug this morning…then someone bugged me." I laughed as I cupped the mug in my hands. She obviously had a temper, but a relatively good sense of humor as well. If my assumptions were correct, she could prove to be quite a handful.  
On the wall opposite her bed was a dresser and mirror. Other than that, there was little else to go through in her room. I sat down I my seat, preparing to take a short nap when all of a sudden I heard her screaming in her sleep. My eyes startled awake, afraid of what they'd find. 


	5. Four

Chapter 4  
  
"No…no! Stop it! No!" I screamed, crouched in a dimly lit corner, a dark creature moving slowly towards me. I tried to run, but I was paralyzed with fear, my legs becoming jelly beneath me. I felt my body drop to the floor, if you could call it that. I couldn't even see what I was sitting on. All I knew was that it was hard and cold, and like me, enveloped in endless darkness.  
  
Curling into a ball, I began to cry, holding my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth like a frightened child. 'What do you want?" I screamed as the creature moved closer to me. I couldn't understand what was happening. What did it want from me? I felt tears running down my cheeks, warm and salty.  
  
Through my bleary eyes, I could make out the ominous figure before me as being what appeared to be a man. He had a black leather trench coat dragging along the floor with each step. As my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I saw that I still couldn't make out his features, though I could feel his eyes upon me. The only light came from a small slit in the darkness, as if an object the size of a brick had been removed from this black space.  
The figure continued to come closer to me, and I hear myself whimpering, "Please …no.", my voice a shaky whisper, nearly inaudible to anyone but me. It didn't seem to hear me. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out what appeared to be some sort of glowing orb, surrounded by orange flames. He cupped the orb in his hands, and now, just a few feet from me, he took the four steps that brought him to my side. Even with him standing over me, I still could not make out his face, and I pulled my arms over my head, trying to shield myself from him.  
He bent down to my level, balancing himself by putting all of his weight on one leg. It was then that I was able to peer into his eyes. They were a brilliant emerald green, and just the sight of them made me stop crying immediately. My eyes were locked with his, and I could not tear my gaze away.  
He put his hand on my shoulder, and with a strong, clear voice, he whispered "Voir dans moi yeux Hope. Tu est une child de le diable." His other hand presented me with the glowing orb. I was about to reach out and touch it, when another bright light appeared...and the darkness fell away to nothingness … … … … …  
  
"Hope!" I called out as I jumped from my seat and ran to her bedside, quickly placing a hand on her cheek to keep her head still as I gently tried to shake her awake. "Hope", I cried again desperately. Why wasn't she waking? What had caused her to cry out in the night? She looked pale and limp in my arms, her face sweaty and cool to the touch, almost clammy feeling. I put my ear to her chest, and could heart her heartbeat pounding to the point where I thought it would bang through her chest, and she was breathing in small wheezing gasps.  
"Damn it! What's wrong with you child!" I pulled her closer to me and arranged myself so that now I was sitting on the bed with her, and she was lying across my lap, her feet and arms dangling lifelessly above the hardwood floor.  
"God", I whispered. "What has happened to her?" Just then, her eyes flew open and she sat up with a jerk, trying to claim oxygen for her lungs, tears brimming over and running down her face. "Papa", she cried, "Papa!" as she buried her head into my chest.  
She thinks I'm her father" I thought to myself. "Great. Now what do I do?" I had about ten seconds to figure out whether to quickly spell her and put her back to sleep; assuming that she had had a nightmare, or I could reveal myself to her and find out what she had seen that could have given her such a terrible fright. I panicked. What if I revealed myself to her now, and she didn't believe me? What would happen to the fate of the world if she couldn't understand the importance of faith?  
Technically, I could get into a lot of trouble for even revealing myself to her. But how else could I protect her? She was going to require constant attention, and someone had to explain to her who and what she was to the world. I couldn't do that under a cloak of invisibility. If I tried, I'd fail, and doom the fate of the world, as well as that of Hope herself.  
I placed my index finger to her head, and decided to calm her as best I could without having her re-enter the realm of dreams. "Me nay oar fez," I whispered, holding the sobbing child to my chest. All of a sudden she stopped crying and looked up at me, her breathing slowed. And she fell asleep, buying me another maybe five hours of time.  
- -  
When I awoke the next morning, my back was sore from sitting in the chair for so long a time. I looked at the bed and found her just beginning to stir. Quickly racing to her side, I touched my fingers to her head in an effort to calm her before she could be startled by waking up to a stranger. I was nervous about doing it through because there was no way of telling if she had any real brain damage if I kept altering her brain waves like this.  
"Hope Williams…" I started, watching the surprised and dazed look that slowly came across her face. The incantation had worked, but she was still not going to react well to this. "Who are you", she screamed, jumping from my arms and running to the other side of the room. "What do you want? Get out of my room!" I winced. Apparently I was right about her temper. Maybe I should have further altered her brain waves.  
I held up my hands, as if to signal to her that I had no intention of harming her. "Please calm down Hope", I said quietly, looking her in the eye, my hands still held above my head in a surrender position. "I don't mean you any harm." "How do you know my name/?" She asked, taking a step towards me and eyeing the baseball bat propped next to the bedside table. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said nonchalantly, doing my best to keep cool. Was she buying it?  
She grabbed the bat, but kept it at her side, apparently abandoning the idea of knocking me unconscious with it. "Thank God,' I mumbled to myself. Just what I didn't need was to be knocked unconscious by a child with a really big stick. A concussion was not exactly going to help me in my mission, but on the plus side, it was obvious she had no evident brain damage.  
"How do you know my name", she asked again, curious but also scared and apprehensive of me. She tightened her grip on the bat, but did not raise it. "Hope, do you believe in angels?" I asked quietly. "Yeah," she said defiantly. "But what does that have to do with you knowing my name. And who the hell are you?" I let a small smile spread on my lips. She had just professed that she believed in angels. The mission wasn't doomed after all! It didn't matter what she said now, she had already helped me win half the battle. Now I had to get her to believe in me, and not just in my kind. It wasn't going to be easy, but we'd made progress. Only problem being, how long would my luck hold up? 


	6. Five

Chapter 5 "Hope please calm down. Do I look as if I'm going to hurt you?" I tried to lower my hands, but she made another grab for the bat, which she then proceeded to stick in my face. "Tell me who you are and what you want, and I'll decide then if you're a threat. " I growled to myself. This was not turning out the way I had planned, not by a long shot.  
I raised my hands above my head again, and began to bargain with her. "OK, just wait a second Hope, I really think you should sit down for this. I…" "Nice try, but I think I'll stand. This is your last chance to tell me who you are. After that, you're getting smacked with the bat, and I'm calling the cops." She brought the bat within an inch of my nose, and I closed my eyes, nervous that she's start to swing it if I made a wrong move. I felt the bat tap my nose, and then slide down, and back to her side.  
  
I looked at her. Hope was a least a half a foot shorter than I was, but she had a fiery energy, and looking into her eyes I could see that though she was afraid, she knew that she was the one in control at the moment. I also knew she had every intention of following through on her threat if I didn't cooperate with her. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. A child with a baseball bat was holding up an Angel Academy second year student. How degrading could you get? I debated casting a spell that would give me control of that cursed bat, but I knew that if I did, I'd lose any chance of gaining her trust.  
Raising myself from her bed, my hands still in the surrendering position, I nodded towards my bag that was resting on her rocking chair. "Open it. I'll explain as you do." I smiled, and Hope looked suspiciously at the bag resting not two feet from her. "What's in it?" she asked, grabbing the baseball bat and using it to catch the shoulder strap of my satchel, pulling it closer to her.  
I smiled at her skillfulness. She was smart enough to use the bat to grab the bag, rather than leaning over the chair where I could quickly have overtaken her, had I so desired. What surprised me even more was that after she had done that, she considered the idea that there could be something in the bag, and that she probably shouldn't just rip it open without knowing its contents. Instead, she dropped the bag gently to the floor, and began to prod it with the base of the bat, making sure nothing inside would come out after her.  
She was definitely an intelligent human being, but her actions showed me that she was not at all trusting of others. It was going to be hard for me to win her over, and I still didn't have any idea how long it would be till the first of many demons came after her. How much time would I have to earn her trust before someone else intervened? If I'd been sent to her side so quickly, there must have been cause for alarm. But then why couldn't I sense any evil yet?  
While I was involved in trying to decide what my next move would be, Hope had pulled the bag open, and was carefully sorting through the contents, moving each item from the bag onto the floor by lightly applying pressure to each item with the bat. I watched as her eyes hit upon each little thing. My tiny Latin spell book, the golden slip of paper that had allowed me to meld my soul with her own, my pocket bible, a cross, a pouch of golden colored dust, and her life story.  
"What the heck is this", she asked, tapping the book that read, "Williams A, Hope: Life Story". She looked to me for an answer while stooping down to pick up the book. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she tilted her head as she looked at me questioningly. "Care to explain this to me?" She asked, more of an order than a request. I watched her dangling the book by its cover. "Why does it have my name on it, and what are you doing with it? Are you a stalker or something? Reading up on your prey?" I tried hard not to laugh. She thought I was stalking her. Was she kidding me? I was the person who was supposed to be protecting her from evil minions like that, not doing their work for them! I looked at Hope's amber-green eyes, and wondered how she could be so ignorant. And then I realized that I still hadn't been able to tell her anything about myself. So, trying not to smile, I began to explain myself.  
"If you'll allow me to speak, I'll gladly tell you who I am, and why am here. Does that sound OK with you Hope?" She looked at me, and I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. "Say whatever you want. But don't give me an attitude. Remember, I'm the one with the bat." "As you wish", I said, locking my eyes with hers. "My name is Connery, and I am your guardian angel." "My what?" yelled Hope, drawing back a little while she tried to decide whether to laugh, or to question me again. I frowned, and creased my forehead, as I heard her start to laugh. This was serious. She has already professed that she believes in angels, so what was the problem here? I didn't get dragged all the way down here to be laughed at.  
Becoming defensive, I called out, "It's true! Just look at the book in your hands. It's all about you; from your birth till present day. Go ahead. See for yourself." I pointed to the book in her right hand. "At least look at it before you tell me I'm not who I say who I am." Hope hesitantly turned the book around so it faced her, and she began to flip through its pages. Her eyes grew wide as she skimmed each section, and then she began rapidly blinking as if she was trying to wake up from a bad dream. But the fact of the matter was, this was no dream. I had been telling her the truth. She dropped the book to the floor, and began mumbling to herself, something I couldn't quite make out.  
"An angel…?" she began, trailing off. Shaking her head, she seemed to come to her senses, and she picked the book up off the floor and threw it to my feet, eyebrows raised. "All right then Colliery. Prove it to me.", she said as defiantly as she could. "It's Connery, and how would you suggest I prove it Hope?" I shot back. The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Humans love to bicker. The more you argue with them and try to prove them wrong, the greater the lengths they will go to win, and the more ruthless they become. By giving Hope an attitude, I had facilitated a reaction in her that I wasn't going to like. I had awakened the defiant and determined part of her nature. And she was going to cause me problems unless I could turn the situation around somehow. Can't they teach us something useful? Like a remove- foot- from- mouth spell?  
She would now look for the best way she knew of to prove me wrong. And I knew exactly what that was. She was going to ask to see my wings. And that was against the rules. No human was ever supposed to see an angel in his or her true form. No human was even supposed to meet his or her angel! But of course, Hope had to be the exception to every rule. She was not a normal charge by any stretch of the imagination. I had been fooling myself by thinking that I could treat her as I had learned to treat the rest of her kind.  
Just as I had feared, the next sentence out of her mouth was, "Correct me if I'm wrong Connery, but angels typically come with a few added features, like a halo and wings. So where are your wings?" She taunted, sure that she had found a way to trip me up, "If you are who you claim to be, then you won't mind letting me see them Connery." I sighed and made the sign of the cross over myself while asking God to forgive me for breaking yet another rule. I had a sinking feeling that I would be doing a lot of that when dealing with Hope. She was, just as I had feared, a most troublesome girl. Just like all the rest of her kind. How had I even gotten into this situation? God knew how I felt about her kind. What had I done to deserve this? I took a deep breath, bringing myself back to reality with the discomforting thought that she was mine to guide, and I'd have to go along with what she wanted.  
"As you wish", I said, closing my eyes and dropping my hands to my sides. They ached from being in the surrendering position for such a long time. "Whatever you need me to do, to get you to believe that I'm really who I say I am." I said softly, my eyes downcast. I watched the base of the bat as she fidgeted with it. I could feel a small wave of guilt passing over her at that moment. The binding spell was getting stronger. I had made some progress. She was starting to believe me.  
With my eyes tightly shut, I raised my hands up, and my wings began to unfurl slowly, spreading themselves till they could spread no further. I fluttered them slightly, and then opened my eyes, having created a small air current, just strong enough to blow stray wisps of hair behind her elfish ears. She took a sharp breath, and stepped backwards unsteadily, the bat dropping to the floor with a crack as her hands flew up to her mouth. "That's impossible" she mumbled through the gaps betwixt her interwoven fingers. She looked at my wings, tracing their outline with her eyes, their bright white reflecting in her pupils. She mumbled again, but this time, I couldn't make out the words, and her hands fell back down to her sides.  
Determined to clear any thoughts of doubt from her mind, I looked at her and fluttered my wings once more, raising myself an inch or two above the floor. Careful not to bump into anything, and trying to acclimate myself to the concept of gravity, I flapped a bit harder, keeping myself floating in the stale air of her room. I hovered there, watching Hope as the shock began to fade away, and the reality of what she was seeing began to set in. Closing my own eyes, I tried to strengthen the connection between her soul and mine, when I heard her whisper, "My God, he's really an angel." I smiled as I felt her entire soul open up to me. Internal warmth suffused itself through my body, starting in the center and reaching out till it touched the tips of my wings. The process was complete. I had full access to her soul now. And things would go a little easier from that point onward.  
I smiled and allowed myself to drop gently to the floor. I knew then that I had won that first battle. But I couldn't help but wonder as I began to walk towards her, how many more were there to come? 


	7. Six

Chapter 6  
  
I leaned back against the door to my room, just staring at the creature before me. So what he had said was true. He really was an angel. His wings were a beautiful pristine white, bright and unruffled. His long white robe hung on him at an elegant length, the sleeves big enough to hold at least three times the width of his arms. It looked like a church choir robe, flowing and graceful looking. But on the front of his robe was a small reddish-brown stain. As far as I could tell, that was the only imperfection he had. But it was an imperfection nonetheless, and it woke me from my trance like state. Trying not to look as astonished as I felt, I asked him quietly, "Why are you here Connery?" I wasn't expecting a real response from him. He hadn't said much while the confrontation had been going on. He had spoken only when he was spoken to. And other than that time I had provoked him, he had seemed to be rather mellow, like the kind that wasn't big on talking.  
Connery looked at me, and asked me quietly if he could pull his wings back in now. And feeling as if I had ripped his pride from him, I blushed and said "Of course, sure…" and cursed my impulsive attitude. I always did things without thinking. I hadn't taken into account that maybe showing me his wings would damage his pride. As I felt familiar guilt waves roll over me, I cringed, and then met his eyes with my own.  
He had retracted his wings, and he was moving closer to me. Connery looked my face over, a small smile creeping across his lips. But when I asked him again why he was here, the smile faded and he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes scanning it as if he would find the answer to my question embedded in the sheet rock. Biting his lip, he took a deep breath and met my gaze.  
… … … … … "Why are you here", she asked me a second time. I pulled my gaze from the ceiling, and met her gaze, having failed to contact God. I had been hoping he would help me in explaining to her who and what she was to the world. But if he wasn't going to be of any help, it would be up to me to explain it all to her on my own, and I was beginning to wonder how I ought to begin to tell her the news.  
I shook my head in frustration. I had no guidelines for how to deal with Hope. I was still inexperienced. I should have been able to avoid having her threaten me with a bat. I was, after all, a second year student. I should have had some control over the situation. But my inexperience was tripping me up over and over again, and I'd only been here a few hours. I still wasn't sure about whether or not the rule applied to her. Technically, it seemed that they would, but then again, wasn't she void from normal procedure because of who her true father was?  
I looked down at her bare feet, and traced the outline of her body with my eyes, stopping when I reached her face. She was a child in so many ways still. If I told her of the task that lay before her, I would strip away any remains of her childhood. I wasn't ready to do that to her. I couldn't do that to her yet. Not until I had better understanding of what she was like and how she would take it. 


	8. Seven

Chapter 7  
  
"So why are you here" she asked, sitting back upon her bed, her legs crossed at the ankle. What, does she have a questions-I-don't-want-to-answer radar system or something? I thought to myself, wincing. "I'm here for several reasons", I stalled. What information did I need from her? "I came to learn more about your past." I covered. I can't be your guardian angel and not know what made you the person you are.  
" The person I am?" she repeated. I saw her eyes cloud over, and I knew she was deep in thought. Whatever had transpired in her past was going to be interesting if she had to think that hard about who and what she is. And the funny part is, I thought to myself, it's all a lie. She has no idea who she is.  
I looked at her, and asked her to give me the highlights of her life thus far. She told me that she was a drama student, and that she had big plans about singing and acting in musicals, writing books of poetry, and drawing illustrations for children's books. "When I was younger," she said, "I used to live with my biological parents." I let her talk, but I knew the story behind why she no longer resided with them. From reading my trusty book, I knew that when she was just five years old, she was left outside in the stoop in the cold for a half an hour for bad behavior. It was cold, and the sun was setting, as a five year old sat on her front stoop, crying and wondering where to go now that "Mommy and Daddy didn't want me", as she put it. She grew up relatively normally, until she hit age nine. One night as she and her sister played with Barbie dolls, past their bedtime, they ignored repeated requests to be quiet and go to sleep. Her father came down the hall with his heavy construction worker issued steel-toed boots, and kicked open the door. Screaming obscenities, he frightened the girls, and Hope tried to get away from him and into her bed. …She wasn't fast enough.  
He grabbed her by the nightgown and threw her against the closet door. Screaming and crying, as she crumpled to the floor, she only seemed to enrage him further, and so he kicked her fragile childish body, bruising her head, shoulders, back and legs, not to mention her stomach and bottom. As he stormed out, Rachel began to sob from under her covers where she had been hiding. But Hope lay gasping for air, sobbing, rolled tightly into a ball having crawled to the far corner of the room. She told her teacher the next day, and was sent to live with her grandfather. Rachel was sent to an aunt in Maine, and the two had not seen each other since that time.  
Watching her face as she reiterated what I already knew showed me how much pain she had felt, and how much more quickly she'd had to grow up. Her eyes were colder than a young woman's should be. And she talked as if she were years older than just 17. "Without suffering, there exists no compassion, " I whispered to myself, trying to justify what had happened to her. But what do those who suffer have to say about that? I wondered.  
She told me she was happy with her grandfather now, though he wasn't home all that much, and mostly slept. And just for good measure threw in how proud he was that she had continued to do well in school thus far. "But sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Rachel and I had just stuck it out. Maybe it would have been just that one incident. Maybe we could have been a happy family, all of us together." "Or, maybe Hope, it was in God's plan for you to come to your grandfather. I think perhaps he needs you more than Rachel or your parents do." "Maybe", she said. "I sure hope so. Because most of the time, I don't feel like helping anyone; I just feel lost." She looked out her window as rain began to drizzle down the panes, and I said a prayer for her soul. She had been a battered young woman. But she wasn't going to suffer anymore. 


End file.
